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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29494521">Mission: Naptime</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterscribbles/pseuds/winterscribbles'>winterscribbles</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Brotherly Bonding, Comfort No Hurt, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Everybody Lives, Gen, I need more soft content in my life, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, cause that’s what my gay little aroace heart desires, nobody is dead cause I said so, some relationships could be seen as romantic if you squint but all were written purely platonic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:40:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,648</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29494521</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterscribbles/pseuds/winterscribbles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate title: Jesse not-so-gently antagonizes local medic into getting some gosh darned sleep.</p><p>It’s been a long campaign, and Torrent Company finally gets a much needed break.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>CT-5597 | Jesse &amp; CT-6116 | Kix</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Mission: Naptime</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23959381">cuddle vibe time</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crab_Lad/pseuds/Crab_Lad">Crab_Lad</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Wrote this instead of taking notes for my anthropology class. I just needed some soft fluff after the end of S7 (yeah yeah I know I’m late to the party). Inspired by Crab_Lad’s excellent cuddle puddle fic, I decided that the world needs more clone piles.</p><p>Didn’t think my first fic here would be Star Wars cause I know next to nothing about a lot of the world, but here goes nothing!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Ow - Kriffing hell, Kix!"</p><p>"Shut up." With one last vengeful tug on the bandage (and another hissed curse from Jesse), Kix leaned back and surveyed his work with a critical eye. The wound was a far cry from the worst the med bay had seen today, but the shrapnel-induced laceration on Jesse's shoulder had still been enough to warrant stitches. And it stung like hell. "Maybe this will teach you to watch your damn flank next time,” Kix continued with eyes narrowed at his work.</p><p>Jesse grumbled, but didn't voice any more complaints - he knew as well as anyone that Kix’s bedside manner was reserved for those who actually needed it, and clearly Jesse didn't qualify today. Besides, the medic’s already-limited emotional tact had been no doubt been completely exhausted over the past 48 hours.</p><p>There was good reason for it: Jesse was the last in a long line of wounded who had needed Kix's attention today. He'd voluntarily been the last one to be treated, opting to instead help organize more gravely wounded brothers who filtered in from planetside. Today's battle had been a long one - Jesse couldn't remember if it had been three days or five days of nonstop gunfire and barked orders, marching on the enemy and dragging the wounded off the battlefield. The Republic had won, but at the cost of too many good men.</p><p>The 501st had been lucky enough to scrape by with fewer casualties than other battalions, but that didn't mean nearly every member had stopped in for treatment at some point during the short but grueling campaign. Even if Kix refused to show it, Jesse knew his friend was exhausted. Telltale lines under his eyes told of his drained energy, and the stiff way he’d held himself for the past several hours made Jesse’s back ache just watching him.</p><p>That was another, slightly sneakier reason he'd insisted on being the last one treated - so that afterward, he could drag the good doctor off for the well-deserved rest that he definitely wouldn't take otherwise. The med bay was largely empty now, aside from the few soldiers needing overnight stays in the bacta tanks. Coric would keep an eye on them, but that wouldn’t stop Kix from trying to stay and monitor them himself. Jesse knew him too damn well.</p><p>"So, am I gonna live, doc?" A crooked grin twisted its way around Jesse's mouth. "Tell it to me straight, I can take it."</p><p>Kix closed his eyes briefly, and Jesse knew he was fighting the urge not to punch his brother in his freshly stitched shoulder. It was his 'too tired for Jesse's shit' face, but Jesse only felt briefly bad about antagonizing him. "Your chances for survival decrease with every second you're here."</p><p>"I better run, then!" Jesse cheerfully hoisted himself down from the gurney where Kix had been treating him, stretching his back. "C'mon, you too, Kix. I think we've both earned our rest."</p><p>Predictably, Kix opened his mouth to argue. Before he could get anything out. though, Coric (Force bless him) interrupted.</p><p>"Jesse's right, Kix. Go get some sleep. I'll hold down the fort for you." Coric looked considerably more capable than either of them did right now, anyway - he'd come off a rest cycle only a few hours ago, thanks to a wrenched shoulder of his own.</p><p>For a moment, Jesse thought Kix was going to continue to protest. Then his shoulders deflated, allowing his body to marginally relax from its stiff posture. "Fine. You two won't leave me alone until I do, anyway."</p><p>Jesse grinned, because Kix was exactly right. He let the medic round off a few orders to Coric regarding Kix's patients before dragging him through the door.</p><p>The hallways were quiet - the men were either in the med bay, the mess hall, or fast asleep in their barracks. Jesse was too tired for a full mess hall meal, but he doubted his growling stomach would let him sleep until he put something in it.</p><p>"Rec room?" he suggested to Kix. "I could go for a quick ration bar before hitting the bunks."<br/>
Kix only managed a tired nod in response. Now that he'd been forcibly removed from his patients, the fight was fading out of him.</p><p>The two slipped into the predictably silent rec room and headed for the stash of ration bars by the extra caf machine. Jesse was too busy shoving the bar into his mouth to notice their company until Kix elbowed his side and gestured toward the couches with an amused nod.</p><p>And there was almost the entirety of Torrent company, plus a few others, fast asleep together on the smattering of couches and chairs in the corner of the room. Many of them were sporting bandages or bacta patches on various body parts, and most of them hadn't even bothered changing out of their armor.</p><p>It took Jesse a minute to distinguish one brother from another in the tangle they'd created. Fives and Echo had claimed the beat-up armchair and were snuggled close, Fives’ arms tight around Echo as he snored softly into his batchmate's hair. Echo looked perfectly content despite the sling Kix had put his arm in just a few hours ago. Hardcase was draped unceremoniously across the back of the armchair, legs curled into Echo's lap and head resting on Five's shoulder as he slept.</p><p>The sofa adjacent to them was even more crowded. Tup and Dogma were pressed up against each other on one side, and an unidentifiable brother in blacks lay sprawled comfortably across their laps. To their right, Denal was nestled into the corner, along with Ridge flopped against the arm of the couch. Several others were laying against each other at their feet, since the couch was over capacity as it was.</p><p>In the middle of it all, wedged between Denal and Tup, were none other than Captain Rex and Commander Tano.</p><p>Rex was wearing only the bottom half of his armor, and was letting Tup lean his head on his shoulder while the commander lay curled on his lap. It struck Jesse just how young the Padawan looked, lips parted in sleep and face buried in Rex's chest with the captain’s arm wrapped securely around her shoulders. It was so easy to forget that she wasn’t the hardened veteran that she sometimes seemed to be - she was still a youngling, and she’d never looked more vulnerable (or more content).

</p><p>Rex had been the only one to crack open his eyes when the two newcomers entered the room, but the normally stoic captain didn't say a word. He just inclined his head to invite them into the clone pile. Force knew the men needed it - they'd fought hard and lost many men today. They'd earned the chance to rest among their brothers.</p><p>Rex's silent invitation was all the convincing Jesse needed. He grabbed Kix's hand and promptly dragged him over to the armchair, grabbing some spare pillows to sit on before flopping at the Domino twins' feet. Fives mumbled in his sleep, but didn't react otherwise.</p><p>Kix was balking, damn him. "That is going to wreck your back-"</p><p>"I look like I care? Sit the kriff down, Kix."</p><p>Despite narrowing his eyes at the order, Kix relented. He sank down beside Jesse, though his sour expression said he refused to be happy about it on principle. Jesse knew how to fix that.</p><p>It was a trick that had worked ever since they were fresh-faced cadets trying to adjust to the horrors of war. When Kix had been pushed to the breaking point, overwhelmed by the trauma of trying and failing to save brothers on the field, Jesse would climb into his bunk and pull his vod’s head flush against his chest. The sound of a familiar heartbeat, blocking out the noise of the waking world, had lulled him to sleep many times during their training, and even now as soldiers. Jesse figured it was partially a medic thing - a strong, steady heartbeat was a sign that he could relax. It meant he'd done his job, that at least the two of them were safe. It was the type of soft shit that neither would typically let others see, but this was a situation deserving of an exception.</p><p>Jesse wasn't really surprised when Kix gave a soft yelp of protest as Jesse yanked him closer, ignoring the pull of stitches in his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around Kix, effectively trapping him. A low growl sounded from the medic, but he didn't try to fight his way out of the hold.</p><p>"Go to sleep, idiot," Jesse murmured with a smirk, using his chin to tuck Kix's head against his chest. It was a comforting motion for both of them, one made Jesse feel like a carefree cadet again instead of a veteran soldier.</p><p>"Shoulda ripped that arm off instead of sewing it up," Kix grumbled, but his body betrayed him by sinking deeper into Jesse's hold, letting go of the last shreds of his dignity. Sleep was already dragging at his voice.</p><p>"Aw, then I couldn't beat 'Case at arm wrestling anymore."</p><p>"Makes winning my bets easier."</p><p>"Traitor." Jesse snickered as he made himself comfortable against the pillows on the floor. A boot suddenly jostled his side with sleep-addled roughness.</p><p>“Shut up down there, will ya?" Fives mumbled from above them, voice still groggy.</p><p>Jesse waved him off with a tired chuckle. When he looked back down, he was hardly surprised to see Kix's shoulders rising and falling with deep, steady breaths. Sleep had won out the second the medic had let his guard down.</p><p>Smiling tiredly to himself, Jesse finally let his own eyes fall shut, drifting to sleep with his brothers all around them. He made a mental note to make this a tradition to recuperate after every battle.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I wrote this with an Apple Pencil and text converter after my Bluetooth keyboard broke, so blame that for any funny spellings or grammar issues. Find me on tumblr at @winterscribbles, I’m more active there!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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